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“What did Nico want?” I repeat, slower this time. I cross the distance between us, which only makes her backtrack until she bumps into a tree.
“What’s your deal with Nico, of all people? You guys used to be friends.”
“That was before he wanted to take what’s mine.” The words are off my tongue before I can stop them.
“W-What?” Rebecca’s eyes widen in surprise, her mouth falling open.
“I told you earlier I don’t like seeing another man’s hands on you.”
I lean closer, bracing my palms against the tree on either side of her face. My heartbeat is racing inside my chest as that rose scent reaches my nostrils.
“Miguel…”
Rebecca extends her hand, her fingers brushing against my chest.
A part of me expects her to push me away, but instead, her fingers just linger there. Not fully touching, but not moving away either.
“Hmm?” I whisper as I lean closer, the tip of my nose brushing against the side of her neck.
Since we dove into the lake, her hair air-dried and was now a mess of curls spread around her head. Wild and untamed, just like the woman in front of me.
My throat bobs as I swallow, my mouth gently pressing against her pulse point, tasting her silky skin.
Rebecca lets out a shaky breath, her body shuddering in my arms.
Those slender fingers curl around my shirt. I can feel her heartbeat that matches mine as I press my mouth against it once again.
So fucking sweet.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispers.
Her words are like a bucket of ice water thrown over my head. My body goes still for a moment. “Why the hell not?”
She looks up, those beautiful hazel eyes heavy with need. “Because we’re broken up.”
Fuck this.
Taking a step closer, my body brushes against hers. “Does this feel like we’re broken up?”
Her grip on my shirt grows stronger as her eyes move to my mouth.
“Because if it does, just say the word.” My fingers slip under her chin, and I lift it up so her eyes meet mine. “One word, Red, and I’ll leave you the hell alone.”
The time ticks by as the silence stretches, the tension building between us so thick it could be cut with a knife.
When she doesn’t say anything, I start to take a step back, but her fingers clench my shirt tighter as she pulls me to her, her mouth finding mine.
Fuck.
She tastes exactly like she did the very first time I kissed her.
Like she’s the beginning and ending and everything in between.
Like fucking home.
Groaning softly, my hand slips to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as I pull her closer to me, my mouth sliding over hers as I back her into the tree. Our bodies press together like two pieces of a puzzle falling into place.
It’s always been like that, and the last three years hadn’t made any difference. Rebecca Williams was made for me, and no distance or anything else will ever be able to change that.
